


This Is For Shooting. This Is For Fun.

by fireflysglow_archivist



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/F, F/M, Het, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-10
Updated: 2004-08-10
Packaged: 2019-04-29 07:02:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14467479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireflysglow_archivist/pseuds/fireflysglow_archivist
Summary: AU sequel to "Heart of Gold"--giving Mal a new set of problems.





	This Is For Shooting. This Is For Fun.

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Firefly’s Glow](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Firefly%27s_Glow), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Firefly's Glow collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/fireflysglow/profile).

This Is For Shooting. This Is For Fun.

## This Is For Shooting. This Is For Fun.

1.  
They all stood around the new gouge in the earth, their tattered finery rippling in the wind. Lucy's thin voice stabbed at the air as she ended and then started the song again, in a desperate round. "Was blind, but now I see. How precious did that grace appear, the hour I first believed." 

"Damn, girl!" Jayne said. "Why you singin' that one? Makes you sound like a ruttin' funeral." 

"It's the only song I know," Lucy said. 

"I got another song I can teach you. You'll like it, it's all about me. Anyways, why ain't you diggin'?" 

T'tonyette put down her shovel and grabbed Jayne's ass. "Why should us girls dig when we got a big, strong man to dig for us?" 

"You all like to wear me out anyway, use up all my manly marrow. Say, how's about you and Little Lucy gimme a slyshow tonight? Helen needs a rest, and anyway Vernon's near to droppin' off, but there's nothin' wrong with my eyes." 

Most of the boy whores had drifted off--one of them had a satisfied client who was willing to put him on the payroll fulltime, one of them joined the army, a couple just went back home or somewhere--but Bentley and Nicky were still around, packing up valuables in oilcloth and putting them in the trench in the backyard. If and when Nandi and Petaline and Joshua ever got back, and business got back to usual, they could redecorate the parlor. Meanwhile there was plenty for them to do, cleaning up (but they left the barricades in place, just in case). There was plenty for Jayne to do: guarding a whorehouse full of guns and grateful professional ladies. 

He slipped his hand under his t-shirt, just checking to see if he'd died and gone to heaven. "Want me to do that for ya?" Lucy said. 

2\. 

"'This is more like it'?" River said, maintaining steady pressure on the retractors. "What kind of thing is that to think?" 

"I brought you in here as a surgitech, not a psychoanalyst," Simon said, checking the readouts. Good, Nandi was oxygenating well and her liver enzymes were stable. "There's no challenge to an uncomplicated vaginal delivery. Now, here I had a very pretty little problem of impending sepsis followed by repair to a nicked common bile duct and a spiffy little bowel resection. And once she's up and around, she won't thank me unless there's a good cosmetic result so I've got to deal with that. And, anyway, mind your own business." 

River stuck her tongue out at Simon, making a bump in the surgical mask. 

Simon put down the scalpel and reached his hand to River, without looking at her. "Electrocautery," he said. She slapped it into the palm of his hand with a soft but satisfying thump. "Okay, that's the last bleeder there taken care of. Lighten her up a little," Simon told her. "Yeah...turn that gauge, maybe fifteen degrees. I'm going to close up now. Sponge count?" 

"Forty-seven," River said. 

"Good. That's right." He passed her back the Ecaut. "Okay. Give me the suture kit that's on the top. We work from top to bottom." 

"Like you think we're going to have to keep doing this." 

"With this crowd, you never know." 

"You just want to feel important." 

"Well, all right, why shouldn't I?" Simon checked the sutures on the resection, looked over at the gauges--all still in the shiny upright position--and began to close the muscle layers. 

"Can I do some?" 

"Of course not!" Simon said. 

"You're mean!" 

"You're being selfish and unreasonable! This isn't a game, a woman's life is at stake." 

River said, "Check the gauge in the middle of the third row." 

Jesus, that's behind her head, how does she know? Simon thought. And then he thought, Why am I even asking? 

"Simon, I think she's becoming slightly hyponatremic. And you're a poo-poo head!" 

3.  
"Why don't we delay the baptism for a few days, until we can hold it at Nandi's bedside?" Book asked Inara. "We no longer believe that God would punish infants for dying unbaptized--and, at any rate, Joshua's in no danger, is he? He seems a sturdy little fellow. And I think it would mean a lot to Nandi to be there to celebrate." 

Delay, he thought. That's all I ever do, isn't it? When those two prostitutes wanted to talk about their funerals, and I hammered the planks into the window frame instead? They wanted to clear their souls at a perilous time, and I stood in their way. He looked through the archway at River, and she gazed back at him, or perhaps merely gazed roughly in his direction. She seemed to be, or he hoped that she was enfolding him with reassurance. He wanted her to tell him that he did the right thing, that the first priority was reducing the number of funerals, that if there turned out to be a later, he could hold a prayer meeting then. And there was a later, and he did, however sparsely attended. 

4\.   
"How is she?" Kaylee asked, one hand holding out the coffee mug, the other clasped reminiscently over the scar on her belly. 

Simon took the coffee mug, drained half of it in a swallow, and said (his voice still booming around the enameled tin mug) "Mmmm, this is good, thanks, this is what I need." 

"Yeah, how is she, Doc?" Mal asked. Simon swiveled around to face him and couldn't see Kaylee's glare. 

"Simon, that's mean!" River said. "I wasn't going to," Simon told her, as he discarded the thought of returning Mal's little practical joke with interest. 

"She certainly survived the initial surgery," Simon said. "I extubated her, and she's breathing well on her own. Nandi should be out of the sedation in about three hours. I don't think we ever really lost her, even on the trip up. We're not out of the woods yet, and I'll have to do a full-scale assessment once she's recovered somewhat, but there's no indication of brain damage. The bullet was nowhere near her spine, so I think we can pretty much rule out orthopedic trauma. There may be some neural involvement though. I ran four units of plazrep into her, that puts our stock down fairly low, we should get some more when we can. Ditto for antibiotics and healing promoters." 

Mal swallowed and put down the whiskey bottle. 

"Christ, I'm wiped," Simon said. "Listen, I'm going to go crash. River, wake me up at...let's see, 1430 hours, I'll see how she's doing and report back to you and then swing by the shuttle and check on my other patient." 

He don't even notice me Kaylee thought. I can make him notice me. I know how. 

5.  
"Them being on the ship...I didn't see that coming," Mal said. "Why didn't I see that?" 

"Awww, it's not hard to be smart after the fact," Wash said. He shoved the bowl of edamame back in Mal's direction. "No, take that back, it is if you're Jayne. But otherwise, not so much." 

"Wish I'd never met that Nandi," Mal said. "Because then I wouldn't have failed her." 

"Failed? You were there to keep Burgess from getting Petaline's baby. Which he didn't. And it's all good, although I'm not all that thrilled to pieces about having the actual documentary-style baby around to make Zoe broodier. And at the other end of the grand cycle of lifestyle events, Burgess got dead. Which in this particular case was a good thing although as a general rule...dead, not good. And we didn't even have to murder him ourselves, which I for one am okay with. It's true that somehow we managed to arrange events suchly that, at great risk to our own lives and property, Jayne gets to rut more than he has in the last twenty years or so put together. The value of which is hard to assess. But who knows, maybe in the great scheme of things somewhere there's a dear nanny goat whose innocence we have spared." 

"Gorram women," Mal said, refilling and promptly emptying his glass. "Awww, I guess that's Alliance thinking, tarring a whole group with the bush...with the brush of just a few of 'em. But still. Gorram women." 

"Captain, were I sly, I would take you in a manly fashion." 

"Except you ain't, so thank the Lord for small favors." 

"I bet all the girls say that to you." 

Mal glared, and Wash decided that that wasn't the best time to yank the chain of command. 

Mal stared curiously at the now-see-through bottle. "A man used to know where he was at, what was right and wrong. There used to be country where a man could live, mind his own business. This used to be a bottle with tequila in it." 

Before Wash could pose a few sophisticated or even Jesuitical reflections about Mal's complex relation to right and wrong, Kaylee came in, opened the chiller, and took a long draught of milk. She sized up the situation in a moment and went over to pat Mal's shoulder. "Awww, Cap'n--Mal--Cap'n, sir! This time you just spent too much time picking out which pair of pants was the tightest, and you got to the shindig late and the strawberries was all gone and someone ate up all the hot cheese thing or some of it was left but it was all gone cold and sticky. Not in so many words, but you know what I mean. And nobody's glad it happened, but..." 

"Yeah, I know. It's a metaphor." Mal reached down to the deepest reservoirs of leadership. "Go away," he moaned. "I'd go away my ownself if I wasn't too drunked-up to." 

Kaylee shrugged. I can follow my own advice she thought. I can. I can. 

6.  
"Well, yes, sure, there's some pain," Nandi said. "But that's only to be expected, isn't it? Whoa, I thought I had had it, for certain. Thank you." 

"Just glad I could help," Simon said. "You'll be very sleepy, but the best thing for you to do is rest anyway. Well, except for the times I'll make you get out of bed and walk around cursing me. There's always a risk of thrombosis during prolonged immobility." 

Nandi smiled, closed her eyes, and drifted back to sleep. 

Ah, yes he thought. The divine gift of somnolence, I can bestow it in mid-conversation even on those who are not at the sharp end of recent traumatic injury. 

He stopped to think if there was anything else he needed to take care of, to the exclusion of everyday reality, and decided there wasn't. So he let it wash over him, and he had to hold on to the wall to stop shaking. There was a battle he thought. People were shooting. At me. Trying to kill me. They did kill people in the vicinity. I didn't sign up for this. 

There was half a bar of chocolate in his cabin, hard dark chocolate with almonds, a little dried out, but still...His whole soul yearned toward that chocolate, or whatever of it was left after River found it. She'd always gone through his things even when she wasn't a Reader, so there wasn't much chance that she wouldn't find it. Simon knew it was irrational, but he was seized by the certainty that River was finding the chocolate right then, that she was opening the wrapper, that if he didn't get back to the cabin in a minute it would be all gone, and he was already mourning. 

He ran into Kaylee about three feet out the door of the Medbay. "Simon," she said, reaching up to stroke his face. "That was lovely. What you said to her. What you did for her, and Petaline too. That was...seeing you at your best. And that's so fine." 

"Yeah, well, then there's the rest of me." 

"I'd like to see it," Kaylee said, closing half the (small) distance between them in Achilles-and-the-tortoise fashion. "If you know what I mean." And, true to the precedent, never got there. 

Simon angled his shoulders back a little, which coincidentally gave him a chance to lean on a much-needed wall. "Sure. Everybody else is postpartum, postoperative, married, or celibate, and Jayne is somewhere else screwing his brains out, no, scratch that, that happened in the first minute. So we're carrying the burden of sexual tension for the whole crew. But it's not a good idea, dong ma? So let me go get to sleep before I go along with you and then find a way to remember the entire debacle as your fault." 

"I been nice to you," Kaylee said. "Why can't you ever be nice to me? Maybe I should have just gone with one of those boy whores when we was down there." 

"A little dicey during a gun battle, but in general, yeah, maybe you should have. Because it'd be honest, and you'd know what you were there for and they'd know what you were there for and you'd pay up and go home and not get hurt." 

"Oh, so this is the gorram speech where you tell me how much you like me, but you think of me as your xiao mei mei? Oh, no, wait, if I was your little sister, then maybe you could fuck me." Oh, that's good Kaylee thought. He looked like I hit him in the face. Except, if someone did for real, to hurt him, his pride would make him pretend it didn't hurt. So this is better. 

"Oh, I can fuck you all right," Simon said. "The bell rings, the dog salivates. And...that? What you said? You think I haven't noticed? And you think trying to not be some kind of monster stops me from doing other things that are just wrong and grotesquely ugly? I'm tired and I'm scared shitless all the time and I feel like I've been hard about since U-Day and the record is replete with the stupid things I've done even when the stress wasn't anywhere near this level of severity." 

He contemplated backing up but that wouldn't get him any nearer to sleep. 

"Look, Kaylee, there's a place in me that's jagged-edged and a place in me that's empty. The wrong people get hurt. Anyplace I've been for more than five minutes, there's someone who just wants to hit me--well, in the current environment they just wind up and go right ahead--but I can never really blame them, because when I look at myself I'd want to too. You want stupid, meaningless, ugly sex? You got it. But you're better than that." 

He shrugged, and just the motion sent a bolt of adrenaline through Kaylee. 

" I don't know, maybe you're not better than that, I just need you to be. But then I suppose I forfeited the right for you or anybody else to care what I need." 

Kaylee, comforting somebody, put her head on Simon's shoulder and was grateful for the small mercy of not being shoved away. 

"I care. Because you're brave, and because when you put your hand to something you don't quit even if it's rough, and because you're smart." 

"But, never forget that there are some areas where I am entirely not a genius. Like keeping my pants zipped. And not being drunk. Or my own best customer for those fine psychoactive molecules that play such a role in modern behavioral health." 

She un-leaned long enough for him to get to his cabin, knowing (both of them) that she'd try not to follow him but eventually fail. He was too tired and angry and aroused even to look for the chocolate. He just flossed and brushed his teeth, put on his sleep pants, and fell into bed and was half-asleep when Kaylee crawled in beside him. 

She had been so enthralled with what she had considered (and now, wryly, was re-assessing) the spiritual beauty of his face that she had never even thought about his body. His body felt exquisite, and when she put on the lamp (he groaned in protest) he looked exquisite, slim but defined, intriguing crisp hair dark on his legs but his face and his chest smooth, so smooth. 

On the technical level he performed excellently (and if he didn't know where the nerves and things were, who would?). Kaylee felt awful and knew she'd come around begging for more. Must be like Drops. Even when you start off when you're young'n'dumb you know it'll end bad, but you still can't wait for your next dose. 

7.  
"Don't try to sit up!" Mal yelped, as Nandi struggled toward a seated position and looked around for a comb and mirror. 

"All right," she said, and tried to shift over in the bed to make some room. 

"Almost lost you once, don't mean to do it again," Mal said. "You take it easy, now, and get better. Hear me?" 

"I'm a lot finer than I ever thought I'd be," Nandi said. "Huh. Next time remind me not to get in the way of the bullets." 

"We won, though," Mal said. "Being able to walk away after a battle, that's always something. But winning, that pays for all." 

"At least pull that chair over," Nandi said. "We've got some unfinished business, and if we can't take care of it the ten-ren way, I'll do my best with the parts that still work. But if you sit over there, you must think your girlfriend is a damn orangutan." {{I'll play out the string}} she though. {{Long as it lasts, we'll be together.}} 

8.  
The next time Mal saw Simon, he cornered the doctor. "Ummm." He said. 

Simon said, "I pulled some data off the Cortex. Sponsored by the Companions' Guild, you will on reflection not be surprised to note. At this point I'm more concerned about not letting my patient over-exert before she has a bowel movement..." 

Mal gave him the glazed look that is the Interworld Thanks for Sharing sign. 

"But you'll have to be seriously concerned about wound dehiscence--peeling apart--for, say, a week or so. It depends on her tolerance of the suture materials and her own natural healing powers. And, of course, the individual libidinal response differs. You'll have to be prepared to wait, even after physical recovery is no longer an issue, if Nandi experiences post-traumatic shock." 

"Right now, that's the least of my worries," Mal said. 

9.  
"Hey, lady," Jayne said, surprised to find Nandi up and about in the lounge area. "You look a sight better'n the last time we met." 

"Your doctor did a fine job. So, tell me, Jayne, how're my girls and my boys? And have I still got a business?" 

Jayne grinned and handed her a soft leather pouch of coin. "Hell, seems like half the men in town wanted to prove that they couldn't wait for Burgess to be in his grave so's they could piss on it. That, or watchin' their friends and neighbors get their ass shot off made 'em randy. Which is probably true. Anyhow, T'Tonyette's doin' fine running things, she says she likes bean-counting better than flat-backing." 

"Then maybe I better run back, 'cause I might find out I don't have a business left, in a different way." 

"Maybe you better not. There's more than one kind of unfinished business," Mal said, tucking a cushion under her feet and fussing with the shawl draped around her shoulders. 

10.  
Book cradled Joshua in the crook of his left arm, and cupped his right hand around the baby's head. Joshua scrunched up his face, howled, and flailed. 

After a moment, Book put the slippery little thing back down on the bed. I just don't see the point of these at all he thought. Maybe that's why I entered the Abbey instead of becoming a regular parish Shepherd, with everybody's blasted children to deal with. 

"Let's talk about the baptism," Book said. "You do want him to be baptized, don't you?" 

"Sure," Petaline said, grimacing at the half-eaten chocolate (another go-se caramel) and putting it back in the box. "He should have everything that the rich folks do. It don't cost nothing, does it?" 

Book shook his head. "Who would you like to serve as Joshua's godfather and godmother?" 

"I want him to have two godmothers. Zoe and 'Nara." 

"I don't know if Inara would be comfortable taking part in a Christian rite," Book said, willing to put aside the whole gender issue. 

"Why not? If you're saying she ain't a Christian 'cause she's a Companion, well, that makes me double not a Christian 'cause I'm just a ten-credit touch." 

"No...if Jesus had no problems talking to prostitutes, I'm not going to claim I have the higher moral ground. No, I mean because she's a Buddhist." 

"She is? Fancy that." 

Book walked around the bed and sat down on the side that didn't have a baby on it. 

"Petaline, the baptism is a joyous thing. I also came to talk to you about a sad thing, if your soul is burdened by the killing you did. There's no sin that can't be wiped out, if repentance is sincere enough, especially where there are extenuating circumstances...ah, if there were reasons why the action wasn't as bad as it might have been otherwise." 

"Yeah?" Petaline said. "Well, thanks for asking, I guess, but you don't have to tell me I didn't do anything wrong. I know it. One less cum-leaking pusbag in the world. Good thing." 

Book closed his eyes. "Nevertheless, Petaline, we do have to bear in mind that a human life was lost..." 

"Preacher, did you come in here to make me feel better or worser?" 

"I don't know myself, any more," Book said, and bowed his way out. 

11.  
Inara came back to the shuttle, gently stroked the sleeping Joshua's forehead, and sat down on the bed next to Petaline. Petaline gently stroked the tumbled dark curls on Inara's forehead. 

"You don't know what it means to me," Petaline said. 

"Malcolm Reynolds is, on balance, a mere slug on the tomato plant of Life," Inara said. "But he has his decent moments. We were all glad to help." 

"No, not that," Petaline said. "Being here with you. Being in your bed. I wish it was real. Please, 'Nara, make it so." 

"But I...but you just," Inara said. 

Petaline took Inara's hand and brushed it against her own cheek. "You're a real Companion, and I'm just a dumb spreadfoot," she said. "You're beautiful and I'm maybe just about half pretty. You're smart and I bet you got money saved and all I got's a baby and the clothes on my back and not a brain in my head. But I never had nothing and you can give me something and I can make it good for you too. You don't have to touch me even, I know how to take care of my femme, make her happy, make her feel good." 

This will never work in the long run, but it doesn't have to, Inara thought. She--they--would be an impossible clog around my neck if we tried to have a future together. But we won't. 

"Them's you go with," Petaline said, "They talk the talk that they want you. But you don't know that. In fact, mostly what you know is that they just gotta get their money's worth. They don't want you for you, they want you for what it proves about them that they can go with a Companion. But I want you for you. Honest." 

Inara gazed at her, affectionately, thinking that Petaline was far too old to begin Companion training. It would be hopeless, anyway. Perhaps if she was good with her needle, Inara could find her a job in a couture atelier. A sardine canning factory was more like it, really. Which means that the girl would be whoring again in a few months because Inara could tell already she was too lazy to make a living doing anything vertical in the early hours. 

But she could also read the few and repetitious volumes of Petaline's hard history. And Inara knew that not every poem is in iambic pentameter or a few well-chosen characters on a scroll. Petaline had given Inara the best poem she had. 

And anyway, Petaline was as much as possible unlike Mr. Malcolm High-and-Mighty Reynolds, and when the vengeance was being handed out that counted for a lot. 

Inara lifted up the counterpane and lay down next to Petaline, who first enfolded her in soft warm flesh, and then stuck her hand down Inara's neckline and squeezed. 

"Shhh, baby," Inara whispered. "Wait. I'll talk to Simon. I never want to hurt you." I will she thought. When I move on and leave you behind because you're not quite the status accessory I need. But not just yet. 

12.  
"The, oh, well, you know...well, it'll go down the toilet just like anybody else's," Zoe said. "It's the diapers I'm worried about." 

"We must have some extra cloth around here somewhere," Mal said. "By 'we' of course I mean Miss High-and-Mighty's shuttle. I mean, what with it being her ladyfriend's baby and all." 

"Well, yeah, but Zoe's right," Kaylee said. "The trouble's the water. We're pretty low on drinking water, so we can't divert any over to the graywater line, and the graywater's pretty damn gray, and we don't even wash our clothes half enough as it is. Start puttin' in ten, twelve, fourteen diapers a day and..." 

"Then we can get the kind that you just throw away," Mal said. "And put 'em in the incinerator." 

"Mal, even if we had anywhere near enough extra cash, by the time we got far enough out of the range of the Rance Burgess Estate, we got far away from anyplace that would sell a citified thing like that." 

"Well, you're Ship-Raised, what'd your Mama do?" Mal asked. "You're an efficient woman, but I can't believe you were born housebroken." 

"I've been racking my brain about it, but I just don't know. I'm the youngest in my family, so there never was a baby after me to be looked out after." 

13.  
The next time Inara saw Simon, she cornered him, but before she had a chance to say, "Ummm," he said, "Penetrative sexual relations are definitely contraindicated for six weeks postpartum. After that, the individual primip may or may not feel discomfort. Are those your real fingernails?" Simon asked, idly wondering about the Councilor. 

"No," Inara said. 

"Then a bit later on, you might want to remove them. You know, expand your options. Oh, and it's very common for breast milk to be expressed when a lactating woman becomes aroused. It can be a psychological problem for the couple, if it creates discomfort about role confusion." 

"Thank you, Simon. What are you, some kind of a Reader?" 

He shook his head. "No. A chess player. Some moves just seem inevitable." 

14.  
Book knew that working out with the weight bench usually put Jayne in a confiding mood, and he was beginning to dread it. Often, there was a fine line between a boast and a remorseful confession. You never knew what was going to be the trigger point that made a soul want to get saved, but still and all... 

"Hey, you know what I just remembered?" Jayne asked. 

"No, but I suspect I'm doomed to find out." 

"Simon's from Osiris, ain't he?" 

Book nodded, his head looking odd and large from Jayne's perspective on the weight bench. 

"Well, I was there once, and if I recollect right, I think there was this time when I didn't screw him." 

"Son, I've known you both a while, and I'm fair sure you didn't ever, ah, be intimate with him." 

"No, what I mean is, I was in this bar. Happened when I got out of the back room where I was bein' appreciated. The lights kinda flickered on. They do that sometimes but it's mostly dark even in the drinkin' and dancin' part of the establishment as opposed to the appreciatin' part. And lots of the guys there were cute-looking, but there was this one guy, dancin' so hard that his shirt was all stuck to him and sweated through so you could see right through it, but the white part flashed in the light. And, damn, he was pretty. And when I first saw Simon he looked familiar, but just now it dawned on me where from." 

"Really?" Book asked, trying to assay the percentage of fact in the anecdote. "It doesn't sound like your kind of place." 

"Naaah, I like getting' my gun off, is all, and sometimes a fella feels like a change of scenery. I couldn't be sly anyway, even if I didn't like pussy so much, what with the gorram music you'd gotta listen to and all." 

"Why are we even having this exceedingly unedifying conversation?" 

"Just wanted to know," Jayne said wheedlingly, or with as much wheedle as could be combined with the air puffing out of his lungs as he lifted, "The folks you're bein' celibate with--are they menfolks or girlfolks?" 

"That's not much of a philosophical conundrum; celibate is celibate." 

"You mean, like, if you're hiding behind a tree in a forest but there ain't no sniper up the hill, were you really hiding? Nah, I figure you're up to something," Jayne said. 

"Oh?" Book asked, and Jayne knew that the quietness was dangerous, but figured he could handle it. 

"First up, you said you was going to Boros, but we been up and down and back past there humpty-hump times, and you ain't on Boros. Captain don't mind keepin' you around long past your fare being used up, 'cause you're a good man in a tight place, and we got a lot of them. So that got me thinking about tight places. What I figured out's that you've got eyes for Mal. But you figure it's shiny, you ain't gonna do nothin', 'cause you're all old and spiritual and maybe past it so it don't matter what he'd say to it if'n you tried it on." 

15.  
Everybody would have been surprised by seeing Zoe in a dress--well, a sidesaddle skirt, long enough to cover most of her boots, with one of her floaty muslin shirts--if they hadn't been flabbergasted by her production of a hat. An actual straw hat with flowers. And it was a shame, because the big floppy brim hid part of her glowing face, lovelier than ever. But the less Wash could see of the wistfulness tearing at her, the better he felt. 

Unfortunately, Zoe thought she could read music, which greatly broadened the range of hymns available for the service, as well as their sheer brute numerosity. And then, when she reached the refrain, she never did. 

It was Book's job to perform rites as asked, so he arranged to have the World, the Flesh and the Devil renounced on behalf of Joshua Malcolm Washburn McAdoo. Although he couldn't attest for the orthodoxy of any of participants--including, to an ever-increasing extent, himself--it certainly made a nice change from the funerals that were more typical of his workload. 

Afterwards, they shared a bottle of Chateau Firefly (Petaline, against medical advice, partook heartily) and a small rubbery protein cake with blue and white icing. 

"Good work, Kaylee," Zoe said, putting Joshua down, giving him a last little pat, and chug-a-lugging half a mugful of 'brew. "Last week was a good year." 

16.  
"I thought you were my friend," Inara said. 

"I always was," Nandi said. "And I'd have to want to be, now more than ever, because of what you and yours did for me and mine. But next time you want to win a footrace, first thing's you better tell the other racers and the fella with the starter's pistol that there's gonna be a race. And also best not sit down on a sofa and fan yourself. Three planets over." 

"And I thought you had better taste. That you'd have more sense of...self-preservation, than to take the leavings off my plate." 

"You've been in the Core too long. Out on the Rim, we don't let nothing useful go to waste." 

"You think I'm just jealous..." 

"Shoo, now, why'd I think that?" 

"It's not funny!" If nothing else, Inara thought, it would be worthwhile to return to civilized institutions where the level of sarcasm was bearable. On Serenity, it approached the level of alkalinity in what she'd read about in Earth-that-Was' Dead Sea. "Did you ever wonder why, out of all the occupations in the 'Verse, Mal pitched on this one? Because he's a...scavenger. A parasite. Trawling around picking up junk because that's his native element!" 

Hey, Nandi thought, Plenty of people make a good living, finding antiques that someone put for sale in the market or even left out for the junkman. But don't blame me if you're the damn fool who didn't look at the hallmark before you sold that dented old thing you didn't know was pure silver. 

17.  
Mal looped his arm gingerly around Nandi's waist, to give her an excuse to put her arm around his shoulder as he walked her back to their cabin. Then he fast-walked back to the lounge area so Inara wouldn't have time to retreat to the shuttle. 

"Gave you a moment to talk to your friend, see her side of the story," Mal said. "And now I'm offering mine. I'm sorry...sorry that you're all upset and got your pride hurt. But I ain't sorry for what I did, because it was good and she's a fine lady and you never had rights over me in the first place. What was in your mind, anyway? That until you got tired of winding me around your little finger, I was going to turn into a eunuch? Turn into a Shepherd? Did you hear any vows, 'Nara, 'cause I surely can't recollect saying any vows. You thought I was going to just stop being a man, forever?" 

"It depends on what you mean by that, doesn't it? You can miss the toilet when you pee and shoot people with or without me." 

"You think I'm jealous of them that you went with, this is what this is about, isn't it?" 

"That's so obvious as to go without saying. But you weren't sexually jealous, you were jealous because they're rich and successful and you're poor and a failure." 

"No, that ain't it. It's because of that carnie pitch you always gave 'em. 'I chose you.' 'You're so special.' I can't see you turnin' down nobody who had the Platinum. Or if you tried, that House of yours wouldn't let you. Sure, I'm a crook. I'm a petty crook, you told me that like to about a million times." 

"About half as often as you called me a whore." 

"Well, now, that's just the thing itself right there. The thing that was in between you and me. Damn right I'm a crook, but I'm not a gorram liar like you." 

18\. 

"Near the engine, maybe?" Kaylee asked hopefully, increasing her volume progressively to be heard over Joshua's howls. "Sometimes babies'll quiet down if they're on stuff that vibrates. Actually on the engine'd be too hot, but..." 

Grilled baby? Mal thought. Yeah, around now I'm shiny with that. 

River, perhaps envious, possibly cursing sour grapes, didn't take any interest in Joshua, which was a relief because it reduced the possibility that she would harm him or just take him apart to see what made him tick. 

"Why'd we go through all that when Petaline didn't even want the baby?" Wash asked, receiving the unified wall of glare that is the meed of those who say what everybody thinks. 

"Oh, she surely didn't want Burgess to have it," Mal said. "That gave her a powerful wanting all by itself. But now that that's done, well, the brunt of baby-tending has fallen elsewhere." 

Simon came in with a little cup and a spoon, and for a moment hopes were high for a technological solution, but it turned out it was just warm fennel-seed tea. "There really isn't much we can do about colic," he said. 

Zoe ran through her extensive sacred and secular vocal repertoire, but Mal didn't blame Joshua for his thumbs-down review. 

Jayne walked in, cooed, "Hey. Hey, hey, Brownpants," and sort of draped Joshua upside-down over his forearm, folded his arm slightly, and took a tour around the room. Joshua stopped screaming and commenced chirping slightly. "You gotta carry 'em like a football," Jayne said. 

"Why did it take me this long to notice that there's no justice?" Wash asked. 

19\. 

"Here," Zoe said, handing Inara a pile of cloth squares. "I cut up one of our sheets." 

"Wonderful," Wash muttered. "Hey, Inara, you're from Sihnon, aren't you?" 

"Yes, I am." 

The newspaper headlines writhed in Wash's grip. "Something about a boat race--that it was some kind of big-finish upset." 

"The Lotus Boat won?" she asked, her voice taut. 

"Yeah, that sounds right." 

"All praise to the Mother of Heaven!" Inara whispered, her eyes filling with tears. 

"What'd I do this time?" Wash asked. 

Inara broke into a run, halted, rushed back and snatched up the cloth and ran off again. 

On the catwalk, she passed Book, who strolled placidly with his nose in a prayerbook. 

"Shepherd!" she called, racing past him, her skirts gathered up in one graceful hand, the other clutching the cloth pieces. "Tell Mal that I'm leaving!" 

Puffing a little, Book reached the shuttle about a lap behind Inara. 

"My dear friend," he said. "Yes, I know that your pride is hurt, and your emotions are engaged as well. But if you bide your time, it'll all blow over, you'll see. Right now, Mal and Nandi are close, brought closer by the stresses of the situation. But I can tell it's just an interlude for them. Their paths will diverge. They'll always have affectionate memories, but then she'll move back to her old life. And then you'll have your chance again. All the better, because you'll know and he'll know that he can feel. That he can be a romantic partner for a woman." 

"Is that what you think this is about? Oh, that is so like your religion. Your Bible says that Mary Magdalene was a 'woman who was a sinner,' so you just assume that whatever she did must have been something about sex." 

"Or something about love," Book said. "Her sins were forgiven, because she had greatly loved." 

That bought him nothing. "You march right back and tell Captain Mr. Malcolm Fucking Reynolds that there is something in the 'Verse that isn't about him. He won't listen, but tell him anyway. I don't know how you stand it, living among totally selfish people," she said. "Petaline, darling, wake up, we're going home...we're going to Sihnon." 

Petaline only grunted and turned over to the other side, planting a pillow over her head. 

Inara led Book over to the sofa and motioned for him to sit down while she opened a tea chest and started folding garments into it. 

"Sihnon is a highly polarized society, you know," she said. Book nodded. "Commercial life, intellectual life, even tong operations are affected by the ongoing rivalry between the two factions. The House Madrassa is aligned with the Lotus Boat faction--the House Priestess is the maitresse en titre of the leader of the Lotus Boat Krewe--and the House Mumbaja is aligned with the Chrysanthemum Boat. For a dozen years, the Lotus Boat was in ascendance. I had just passed my Third Level examinations, and LaVoija Chen-Yui was my, well, I suppose you'd call her my mentor. Our Priestess was very old, and we knew that soon she would Pass to the West. I was very vocal in my support of La Voija's candidacy to succeed her. But then the Great Wheel turned. The Chrysanthemum Boat won; many of our clients deserted us to patronize the House Mumbaja; and we speculated that the Lotus Master would be forced into exile. Before that could happen, though, he died in a single-flyer accident. And LaVoija was with him." 

Book touched her hand with his. She nodded, accepting his sympathy. 

"After that, you didn't have to tell me twice! I got out in a hurry. And for long, lonely years it's been one ugly rock after another. Only a few weeks a year when I was even in the same orbit as civilized people, far less when I could see any beauty or learn anything or spend an evening in agreeable company. And now that the Wheel has turned back, I'm in a hurry once again. To make up for everything I lost, and to get it back from everyone who took it away." 

"So this is about politics?" 

"I'm sorry, Shepherd. Time to put away your shopgirl romance. For years, I had to hide. Now my period of exile is over. I can go back, and take back what's mine." 

"You can," Book said. "But do you have to?" 

"I do not need Malcolm Reynolds," Inara said. "I do not need anyone at all." 

"Then I feel compassion for you," Book said. "You think that that's an answer, and I know that it's just another problem. Could be a big one." 

20.  
Kaylee cried a lot, bursting into fresh tears every time Inara reminded her that she was always welcome on Sihnon. Inara thought, but didn't add, that the guest accommodations would become increasingly palatial as the visit was deferred. 

Zoe held Joshua for the half-day that was needed for moving luggage and going back for things that had been forgotten. All except for the times he nursed. Inara and Simon each had done half of the pattern for knitting a baby carrier: Inara because she thought knitting was relaxing, Simon because he had to exercise the small muscles in his fingers. 

Mal spent the whole time in the bridge, putting up a Shuttle for Rent sign and other captain-y things. 

21.  
"Wash, what're you doin' in my hammock?" Kaylee asked. 

"It's less conspicuous here than on the sofa in the lounge." 

"Uh-huh. Bet there's a story behind that." 

"I tried, Kaylee, I really tried. But after awhile my sense of humor just got the best of me and I, well, sort of made some reference to the general funniness of the way Zoe acted around a real baby behind the scenes after day three or so..." 

22.  
Mal and his lady sat at the table, playing backgammon. She thought she might take up the dulcimer again, give it a fair trial this time, so he and Wash were building her one from some plans they pulled down from the Cortex. 

"One more game," Nandi said. "Then vacation's over. Time to start thinking about some crime."

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Title:   **This Is For Shooting. This Is For Fun.**   
Author:   **Executrix**   
Details:   **Standalone**  |  **R**  |  **het *slash***  |  **38k**  |  **08/10/04**   
Characters:  Malcolm, Kaylee, Inara, Jayne, Simon, Book, Other \- Nandi, Petaline   
Pairings:  Mal/Nandi, Inara/Petaline, Simon/Kaylee   
Summary:  AU sequel to "Heart of Gold"--giving Mal a new set of problems.   
  



End file.
